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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26044867">Silver Linings</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/forsitvenire/pseuds/forsitvenire'>forsitvenire</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>World of Warcraft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood and Injury, Developing Relationship, Flynn Fairwind Has No Survival Instinct, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:14:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,634</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26044867</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/forsitvenire/pseuds/forsitvenire</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After a rough and quite demanding expedition Captain Fairwind visits the <i>Wind's Redemption</i> to submit a report, and once again, the Alliance Spymaster sees right through him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Flynn Fairwind/Mathias Shaw</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>87</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Silver Linings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/monoidea/gifts">monoidea</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>"Lengyel, magyar – két jó barát,</p><p>    Együtt harcol s issza borát,</p><p>    Vitéz s bátor mindkettője,</p><p>    Áldás szálljon mindkettőre."</p><p>:)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was a loud, slightly uneven knock on the door of his cabin, but before Shaw could even look up from his paperwork or let alone allow anyone in, the door was already being pushed open. </p><p>He narrowed his eyes, ready to scold whoever thought they were allowed to barge into his cabin unannounced, only to see Flynn Fairwind slipping inside hastily, though with a visible amount of effort, through the tiny gap in the door. </p><p>Shaw had no idea why he couldn’t have been decent enough to just enter like any other person, if he had already decided to come in unannounced. A deep frown joined the narrowing of his eyes. </p><p>“Captain Fairwind,” he spoke out, putting away his quill and straightening himself in his chair. </p><p>Fairwind flinched visibly at the tone of his voice. He closed the door after himself with great care, then slowly turned around to face Shaw. There was a strange, somewhat pallid tone to his face, but perhaps it was a trick of light. </p><p>“Ah, master Shaw,” Fairwind acknowledged him in return, “Apologies for the delay, we had a minor… inconvenience, so to speak, on our way back from the Rotting Mire.” </p><p>Shaw would normally let Fairwind’s unusual behaviour pass. He was slowly getting used to the sailor’s antics and this time it wasn’t anything particularly different. He had seen him worse, after all, after one too many rough nights out drinking. But something about the way his voice sounded audibly strained made him give the captain another quick once-over. </p><p>His ponytail was a mess. A lot of the strands had slipped from where they were tied together at the base of his skull and they were now stuck to his forehead and the sides of his face with drying sweat. There was a smudge of something dark across his cheek, dirt or… soot, perhaps? Shaw shifted his gaze lower. Fairwind’s coat bore similar marks, in addition to a few places where it was blatantly scorched through. His posture appeared visibly forced as well, as if he was deliberately keeping his weight off one of his legs. </p><p>“Are you alright?” Shaw found himself asking, against his better judgement. Perhaps a more vague and less direct approach of <em>“What happened?”</em> would have been more fitting, but his concern about the Kul Tiran seemed to have taken over.</p><p>Fairwind blinked at him, slightly taken aback by the question, but quickly got himself together and pulled his coat open in a somewhat frantic movement, then began searching for something inside his pockets. </p><p>“I’m fine,” he replied quickly, finally managing to pull out a crumpled piece of parchment, “<em>Middenwake </em>not so much, but yeah, she’s been through worse.”</p><p>He stepped forward, extending his arm with the parchment towards Shaw. The Spymaster didn’t miss the quick, forceful grimace that flashed through Fairwind’s face when he willed his body to move. </p><p>Shaw reached his arm forward and took the report from his hand. He glanced over it quickly, making sure it was filled properly. Fairwind, probably thinking he was entirely occupied with the report, slouched a bit and gripped the backrest of the chair that stood in front of his desk, leaning his weight onto it. His expression became somewhat uneasy, as if he was struggling to even keep himself upright. </p><p>Shaw looked up at him and tapped the parchment with his finger. “It’s missing your signature where you’ve listed the contents of the hold.”</p><p>Fairwind’s posture tensed immediately as soon as he realized Shaw’s eyes were back on him. </p><p>“Must’ve slipped my attention, sorry about that,” he said, forcing an apologetic smile. He reached for the report. “I’ll fix it as soon as I can and bring it back tomorrow morning. Or this evening even, if you’re still on duty.” </p><p>“No need, captain,” Shaw kept his hold on the parchment, effectively blocking Fairwind’s attempts at taking it back. He nudged the inkwell with his knuckles and slid it across the desk towards him. “It’s just a singular signature, you may just as well fix it here. It will save us both a considerable amount of time and hassle.” </p><p>The look that Fairwind gave him was straight out pleading. Shaw lifted his eyebrows at him, prompting him to get it done. It was just a simple signature, it wasn’t like he was asking him to perform anything complicated or particularly demanding.</p><p>Fairwind reached reluctantly for the quill dipped in the inkwell. His arm looked unnaturally stiff, as if he was putting great care into not maneuvering it too much. He forced his fingers to close around the nib, and his face contorted in a visibly uncomfortable grimace. It was brief, and he immediately stifled it, but he glanced at Shaw immediately anyways. </p><p>Shaw pretended he didn’t pay him any mind and busied himself with shuffling his remaining paperwork from one pile to another. Despite that, he still kept the Kul Tiran in his peripheral vision, watching his every move cautiously. </p><p>The <em>Middenwake</em> captain leaned forward slightly and supported his arm on the edge of the desk. There was a distressed look on his face and he held the quill in an entirely bizarre way, as if he was unable to close his fingers around it properly. He pressed it into his palm with his other hand, so it wouldn’t just slip out of his grip. The position didn’t look comfortable or practical, and the way the nib was tilted made the ink drip all over the desk and the parchment. </p><p>Shaw watched with growing annoyance as more dark, bleeding stains ruined his desk, but kept quiet, curious about Fairwind’s strange behaviour. He had never seen him write anything in person, but he had collected a considerable amount of reports signed with his name, so he always figured the man could read and write properly. Though the way he handled the quill at the moment made the Spymaster slowly begin to doubt it. He had no idea, however, how the Kul Tiran had managed to fill so many forms before. </p><p>He moved his gaze from Fairwind’s face lower, towards his hands. Both of them were visibly shaking, and though it’s been already a few minutes, the captain was still stuck on awkwardly scribbling the first F of his name. It was supposed to be ornate, in theory, and Shaw recognized the way it was written from his previous reports. They were all signed by the same hand, and its owner apparently knew how to write. So what was the purpose of this entire farce, then? </p><p>The sleeve of Fairwind’s coat caught on the edge of the desk suddenly and the quill fell from his hands. The captain cursed audibly under his breath as he scrambled to pick it up before the ink stained the parchment completely, while frantically trying to pull the sleeve down to cover his arm at the same time. </p><p>He wasn’t quick enough, however, and Shaw’s gaze was immediately drawn to a large, reddish and inflamed stripe on the underside of his wrist that stretched all across his entire forearm, all the way under the sleeve of his coat. It appeared to reach towards his palm as well, where it was covered by Fairwind’s rugged leather glove.</p><p>Shaw’s eyes snapped towards his face immediately.</p><p> “You are wounded.” </p><p>Fairwind ceased his attempts on picking up the quill. He pushed himself off the desk with a sigh and stood a bit more straight. </p><p>“Yeah, kinda,” he admitted. His expression was utterly resigned and he refused to meet Shaw’s gaze. “It’s not serious, I think, just stings like a bastard. Can I submit the report tomorrow? I promise I’ll rewrite it properly and sign in all the places necessary just… not now.”</p><p>His hand hung by his side uselessly, and it was obvious it was causing him much more than just a mere stinging discomfort. </p><p>Shaw slid his chair away and stood up abruptly. He rounded the desk in a few quick and deliberate steps and gestured to the other chair, that Fairwind had leaned on before. </p><p>“Sit,” Shaw said. He didn’t mean it to sound like an order, but years of practice made it come out like that anyways. He cringed inwardly at the openly frightened look that Fairwind gave him, but at least he was smart enough not to make a fuss over it and just follow Shaw’s request. </p><p>He carefully eased back on the chair, making sure not to strain his leg or move his hand too much. </p><p>“Look, it’s really nothing serious, I’ve had worse, honest to the Tidemother,” Flynn started babbling again. Ah, there it was. It wasn’t good to count one’s chickens before they hatched, after all. “It’ll probably go away on its own, I just need to rest it for a bit.”</p><p>Shaw ignored his words completely, just as much as he ignored the both puzzled and alarmed way in which Fairwind just straight out <em>stared </em>at him, when he kneeled down between his legs. </p><p>“Come on, there’s no need,” Fairwind tried again, though the protest sounded much less convincing than before, “I’ll just have to soak it in soapy water and it’s gonna be as good as new.” </p><p>Shaw carefully took the man’s gloved hand between his own hands, then tentatively began to peel away the leather that covered it. A stifled hiss made him pause halfway through, and he looked up at the captain with a question in his eyes. </p><p>Fairwind swallowed with effort. He looked more pale than before and there was a thin sheen of fresh sweat covering his forehead. He nodded weakly. “Go on, then.” </p><p>Shaw resumed his previous action, trying to ignore the way the Kul Tiran immediately tensed under his touch. It took him a moment to take the glove off, as he tried to cause him as little discomfort as he could. As soon as it was off he received an unobstructed view of the state of Fairwind’s palm. He felt his stomach lurch uncomfortably at the sight. </p><p>The inflamed skin on his forearm turned out to be a burn mark of some sort, as he could notice tiny blisters already forming on the underside of his wrist. The skin around the inner side of his elbow didn't look as irritated, as it was only mildly reddened and slightly swollen, without any actual damage to it. His palm however was simply a mess. There was barely any actual skin left there, as if something had just straight out ripped it all off, leaving only the raw, bright red tissue underneath. The wound was rather extensive, though thankfully appeared shallow, even through the layers of dirt and blood that slowly oozed out of it. The edges were frayed and uneven, and Shaw could notice tiny bits of some sort of thread sticking from it. </p><p>“Why didn’t you go see a healer right away?” he asked, unable to take his eyes off the injury. He could hear the man’s quickened, shallow breathing. </p><p>Fairwind shifted in front of him, visibly uncomfortable. He cleared his throat awkwardly. </p><p>“We were already running late,” he said with audible reluctance, “and I know how much you value punctuality. I just didn’t want to delay any further. Figured I’d take care of it as soon as I gave you the raport.” </p><p>Shaw looked up at him with disbelief. Did Fairwind really consider his own health as a lower priority compared to whether Shaw would or wouldn’t be annoyed by him being late? </p><p>“You could’ve just said something, I wouldn’t have forced you the way I did,” Shaw pressed further. He knew there was no use in reprimanding the man any further, but still, he couldn’t quite subdue the overwhelming concern that suddenly washed through him. He could only imagine how painful it must’ve been for the captain to even attempt holding the quill in his wounded palm. </p><p>“And you could’ve said nothing at all. Like I’ve said, I can take care of it,” Fairwind shrugged, trying to look unbothered, though the expression in his eyes was still visibly strained, “You should’ve just let me finish and it wouldn’t be a problem anymore.” </p><p>Shaw didn’t know whether he meant the incomplete raport or himself. The thought that Fairwind actually considered himself as some sort of nuisance made his chest tighten painfully. He decided to speak against the latter.</p><p>“You’re not a problem,” he said, pushing himself off his knees and onto his feet, “Stay here, I’ll get something to clean it for you.”</p><p>It didn’t take him long to procure a basin filled with steaming water and soap suds, along a few clean stripes of cloth and bandages. He was given a few concerned looks on his way back to the cabin, but no one actually asked him anything, for which he was grateful. They probably didn’t dare to ask, anyway. </p><p>He couldn’t help the feeling of relief at the sight of Fairwind still sitting in the chair by the desk, right where he had left him. His entire posture spoke of exhaustion and discomfort, though when he noticed that Shaw returned, there was a glint of something brighter in his eyes. Shaw stubbornly refused to think about it any further. </p><p>He set the basin on the desk and placed the bandages to the side, though close enough for quick access. He reached forward, palm up, expecting Flynn to give him his injured hand without further protests, though the Kul Tiran wouldn’t probably be himself, if he didn’t do something against what he had been told. </p><p>“You really don’t have to, I can do it myself just fine,” he said, and it sounded surprisingly close to an actual whine. Shaw lifted his eyebrows at the look of utter distress on Fairwind’s face. </p><p>“You’re a grown man, captain, I’m sure you can withstand the wound being cleaned,” he said drily. “Besides, haven’t you been through worse? You’ve said so yourself.” </p><p>Fairwind sighed, resigned, then reluctantly offered his hand to Shaw. </p><p>The spymaster promptly took it and submerged it in the soapy water. Fairwind flinched violently when his hand broke the surface, but Shaw couldn’t help but admire the fact that he didn’t let even a whimper slip from his throat. </p><p>“Tell me what happened,” he said, as he began to pick out the frayed threads that were still stubbornly stuck to the wound. He soaked the stripe of cloth in the water as well, wanting to use it later on to clean the dried blood mixed with dirt and soot from the unharmed skin around it. </p><p>Fairwind sighed again. </p><p>“It was supposed to be a quick run, but we got ambushed by elementals on our way back,” he said, leaning back in the chair and looking around Shaw’s cabin curiously. He appeared slightly more relaxed than before, which proved that Shaw’s little distraction was effective. “A fire broke out around the fo’c’sle and the foremast sails got caught, but we managed to get away more or less unscathed.” </p><p>Shaw frowned. He pushed the sleeve a bit further up to clean his wrist and forearm as well. “If you’ve managed to get away <em>unscathed</em>, then how did you get burned like this?” </p><p>“I said, more or less unscathed. It’s, ah,” Fairwind rubbed the back of his neck with his other hand, “It’s a rope burn. Not… an actual burn. The fire caused some weird air currents to form, which made it difficult to steer the ship away. I tried to reef the sails a bit so they wouldn’t be affected as much, but, yeah. Let’s say that the current was stronger than I anticipated and the rope kinda… slipped from my hand.” </p><p>It was Shaw’s turn to sigh. “Aren’t the gloves supposed to prevent this?” </p><p>“Wasn’t wearing them, unfortunately.” </p><p>“And why’s that?”</p><p>A small smile appeared on the captain’s lips, and though it was weak and somewhat sheepish, Shaw was grateful it was a smile nevertheless. His next words, however, weren’t as welcome. “I was actually filling that raport for you.”</p><p>Of course. That would explain the state of the parchment and the lack of signature. </p><p>“What about your leg?” Shaw asked then, as he gently took Fairwind’s hand out of the water to examine the wound again and pat it dry with another stripe of cloth. </p><p>“What about my leg,” Fairwind parroted back, cocking his head to the side as he looked at Shaw in front of him with a puzzled expression on his face. </p><p>“You were limping when you walked in.”</p><p>“Oh, right,” he patted his thigh in a few places tentatively, then winced when his fingers pressed a particularly sore spot above his knee, “I must’ve hit it on the deck when the rope dragged me across it, before I actually realized I should probably let go.” </p><p>Shaw rolled his eyes at him. He placed the cloth around the wound securely to keep the rough bandage from digging into it, then proceeded to apply the rest of the dressing. “I can’t believe you’ve managed to stay alive for so long without an actual survival instinct.”</p><p>“Hey, you probably have no idea, but proper sails are terribly expensive,” Fairwind tried to defend himself, “My body can heal, but torn and burnt sails, unfortunately, don’t possess that ability.” </p><p>Shaw tied the bandage around his wrist, then slipped his fingers under it to check if it wasn’t too tight. Having made sure the blood flow wasn’t affected, he placed his hand gently back on Fairwind’s lap. </p><p>“It’s less likely to get infected that way,” he said, for good measure, when the Kul Tiran examined the wound dressing curiously. </p><p>“Looks good enough. You’ve had medical training?” </p><p>Shaw shrugged. “All SI:7 operatives have, it’s a part of the general training. Besides, it’s rather convenient to know how to take care of basic injuries. There isn’t always a healer available, and surviving is more important than anything else.” </p><p>“No complaints here,” Fairwind commented, his voice back to his usual cheerfulness. His mood was visibly better compared to when he had first entered Shaw’s cabin. “The only thing that’s missing is a kiss to make it better.” </p><p>He must’ve realized what he had just said the moment the words left his mouth. It was almost amusing to watch as his eyes widened and his unharmed hand twitched on his thigh, as if he wanted to clasp it against his mouth. He gave Shaw a quick, nervous look, then his eyes moved towards the door as if he considered his means of escape. </p><p>He was already opening his mouth to say something again, probably to apologize, and Shaw promptly decided that it was probably time for him to stop talking. </p><p>He closed his fingers carefully around the man’s bandaged wrist, then brought it up to put his mouth against the unharmed skin below the edge of the dressing. It wasn’t a proper kiss, more like a brief, tentative press of lips against the warmed skin, but judging from Fairwind’s wide-eyed, utterly stunned gaze, it got the point across. </p><p>Shaw let go of his hand and stepped back to, once again, take his place behind his desk as if nothing of particular importance had just happened. He sat down at the chair, took the abandoned quill back into his hand and resumed filing the paperwork, in the same way he had been doing when Fairwind first entered his cabin. </p><p>He looked up after a while to see the captain still sitting opposite him, with the same stunned expression on his face. </p><p>“I’d advise you to see a proper healer nevertheless,” he said, trying to once again sound as impassive as he normally would. It was hard for him to stifle the satisfied smile that tugged at his lips from the way his action apparently rendered the infamous Flynn Fairwind entirely speechless. It certainly seemed like an interesting piece of information, and he made sure to store it somewhere deep in his memory. “Don’t bother with the missing signature, the spilled ink ruined the raport anyways. Just bring me the copy when your hand is healed enough.” </p><p>Fairwind stood up reluctantly, though he still looked slightly dazed. He made a few, uncertain steps towards the door, then turned around to look at Shaw again. The Spymaster leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms in front of his chest and reciprocated his gaze politely, still trying to keep all his emotions and facial expressions in check.</p><p>“Thank you,” the <em>Middenwake </em>captain said earnestly, after a while. He took a deeper breath. “For the bandages, and…. yeah. The rest.” </p><p>Shaw nodded shallowly, letting him know he acknowledged his words. “You’re one of Alliance’s most competent captains at the moment. It would be a shame if something incapaciated you for too long.” </p><p>And then, before Fairwind’s eyes could widen any further, he added: “That’d be all. Consider yourself dismissed for the day.” </p><p>The Kul Tiran turned stiffly on his heel and the expression on his face showed clearly that he had a hard time convincing himself that he had just heard these words from the Alliance Spymaster’s mouth. He gave Shaw one last glance over his shoulder, then exited the cabin and carefully closed the door after himself.</p><p>As Shaw finally returned to his paperwork, he couldn’t quite force the image of the faint blush that had appeared on Flynn’s cheeks in reaction to his words. Though perhaps it might’ve been the beginning of a sunburn, which, after a moment of consideration, he deemed more probable. The captain had, after all, spent the entire day at sea. </p><p>He willed his mind to focus on the remaining reports and soon all that was left of the <em>Middenwake</em> captain was the faint taste of salt, sweat and iron on his lips. </p>
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  <p> *** </p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm on <a href="https://xcosmicreaver.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a>.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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